Radiant Anew
by Nocturnea
Summary: Once in the land of Tellius, there was peace. That... Is sadly not what we're here to talk about. Instead, this is the tale of how a group of young freedom fighters- two groups, actually- rose up against the Begnion senate and found themselves in the war that would later become the stuff of legends. Rewrite of "Radiant Dawn Gaiden". T for violence.


_Hello! I don't really know of any pleasantries meant to be said in the notes before a story, so I'll just cut to the chase. I read over my first story, "Radiant Dawn Gaiden", and found it almost as unsatisfactory and badly done as its original version "Sparks of Dawn". That's why I've decided to rewrite it, changed hopefully for the better. I'll use more detail, explore characters more deeply, and try and resolve my problems with dialogue. I also plan to eventually have fairly prominent pairings, and will accept requests if they have some reasons given (including pairings not given an ending in the game, such as Mist and Rolf). Mist, Rolf, Ike, Mia, Janaff, Lucia, and Elincia all already have pairings in my plan._

_If you're looking for a masterpiece, filled with fantasy and realism at the same time and marvellously well-writen, I recommend reading "Debt of Honor" by voltaire22, or "Tactician of Flame: Final Cut" by RasenKamehamehaX100. However, I don't recommend reading this story if you'd prefer something truly amazing. I'm still growing as both a writer and a person, so this may have a bit of a bad start but with advice I believe I am capable of improving. Just a warning. If you'd like to read this anyway, I thank you. Thank you for reading; that gives me reason to write._

_Anyways, enough of this sappy stuff, I know for a fact I'm no good at that. On with the story, in just a moment._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem in any way at all, don't intend to somehow in some weird way profit from writing this story, and this applies to all future chapters. I own the ideas behind my original characters (or at least, if by some coincidence another fanfiction author has similar characters, I have not seen their writing at all and came up with my characters fully on my own), though a few of them are inextricably linked to the Fire Emblem universe and thus cannot be called fully "mine". This applies to all future chapters as well._

**_Prologue: Oathbreaker's Journey_**

"I'm sorry." I hang my head limply and gaze at the ground. Any second now, Terin's going to hit me with her worn-out staff and insist that I return to camp. My best friend is so predictable sometimes. To my great surprise, the blond priestess doesn't do as I'd thought she would.

"There isn't anything to apologize for." Terin's hand gently turns my head upwards to look at her; not quite five years older than I, and yet she's more than one and a half times my height. Where I am childish and clumsy, she is lithe, dexterous, and overwhelmingly beautiful. In her turquoise-grey eyes, there is a fiery will and unmistakable experience that speak to her premature hardships, which in turn gave her precocious political instinct. It's no wonder she's the leader of our group; she'

"You sure? Lawrinz is an archer; once you two get into melee combat, you're both pretty much dead." Now I'm the one who's stopping me from just leaving here and now; why is my resolve shaking?

"Have you forgotten, Ciela? We're knights." Terin laughs. I wonder briefly how she can remain so cheerful. After all, I may as well be abandoning her and her brother to death at the hands of bandits, the Senate, or an untold number of other factors.

"We call ourselves that, yes, but we're only-"

"We are knights of the river. We protect the people of neglectful or frivolous territories, remember? Whether it be from bandits or their lord's own forces..." Terin trails off, obviously wanting me to finish for her.

"We shall be there, one and all, to allay the troubles of the common folk. Yes, I know our pledge, and that's why you shouldn't be letting me do this so easily! By the goddess, Terin, I'm breaking my vows!" I practically shout.

"Then stay. But know that I was not the one to stop you from finding your family," Terin smirks, probably recognizing her victory, "Milady Ciela of Talrega." My temper flares at the fact she would speak of my adoptive family and foster home, or more specifically that she would do so now.

"Maybe, then, I will go. I'll find Jill, and with the letter my Lord foster father entrusted me, I might even find my parents and brother. And I shall know that I have a friend to return to, victorious or not." I return, at first carrying a little bite and then becoming more friendly. Terin's plans, devious and brilliant as they often are, are by no means completely foolproof. In under a year, I've learned to discern when she's using one and, for the most part, sidestep. I'm not entirely sure whether I've done that this time, but I'm inclined to think not. It's possible and even likely that Terin's plan was to encourage me to go, and not the opposite; though my staying would be tactically beneficial, Terin usually puts sentiment in front of tactical benefit. Though I must admit in the long-term I would have slowly become completely useless, completely focused on thoughts of my birth family instead of the River Knights.

"Uorabmak... enetekustowik." Terin whispers, in the Old Tongue I think. Priestesses, priests, and other users of magic need to speak it to some degree, but it's otherwise out of use among Beorc and most Laguz. Having lived in a noble house, for about nine years anyway, I speak a little. To be honest I never really got what's so hard about it; my teachers said I had a natural gift with the Old Tongue, but it took me until I was four to learn how to speak the Modern Tongue.

"Omatana... inohssiotatanaawiemnu." I reply. Terin nods.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go on! And take this." Terin hands me a bag; now I notice that, besides my bronze sword and black cloak (and a certain scroll hidden in said cloak), I hadn't remembered to take any supplies! Good thing Terin saw me leaving, then, in more ways than the moral benefit of going with her blessing as opposed to running away.

"Thank you." I sling the bag's strap over one shoulder, and start to walk away north.

"If you want to thank me, come back safe by winter. We'll be waiting." Terin calls after me. I can take that condition, I think. It's spring now; if I cannot find my foster sister or my brother, it's likely at some point in the Mad King's War they were killed. If not, the Begnion occupation has almost certainly slain them. But still, I cannot bring myself to believe it impossible that either or both yet live. That's why I need the time limit, so that I will waste two seasons and no more; to put a word to it, so that I know when I've failed. I have to believe I will not fail; I must believe I cannot fail.

I use the smallest, least central road I know of, and stop in a forest. It was already night when I left, but now the moon is past its peak in the sky, and clouds are coming in. I'm used to getting little sleep, but usually because of waking up very early so as to be moving by sunrise. So I sit down against a tree, and open my bag of supplies. Several healing herbs and a pouch of poultices, a few scraps of cloth, a wooden canteen full of water, a piece of flint and a piece of steel- why would I need that? I guess Terin didn't want me to waste healing herbs, though that is sort of my primary function, seeing as I can hardly use my sword properly. Oh, that's right. I had almost forgotten where that power comes from; me having "cursed blood" or something such nonsense. I don't know if that's true, though I doubt it, but I do know for certain that it isn't normal, even for a trained Mage or Sage.

The cloud cover has set in, leaving almost complete darkness to the world below where I sit. After a couple unsuccessful tries at climbing a tree without the benefit of sight, I acquiesce to my natural instincts and will some of my life energy to flow out of my birthmark. Said mark glows red, and I let the cobalt sparks that manifest soon after dance on the tips of my fingers. I stare at them for a little while; from what I know, I have some sort of hereditary ability to create this magical flame in exchange for a little bit of my own blood. I've mastered a few methods of manipulating this technique, which I call "spells" even though it isn't properly magic. The more potent ones require more blood or quintesscence or whatever it saps, and the incredibly impotent one I'm using now would have, though this at first sounds quite weak, at one point given me a large amount of pain. From what I can figure out, the more potent spells also tend to have more economic input to output ratios while the weaker ones have higher or equal input-output ratios. This one, which is the only one that is capable of starting a normal-looking fire for some reason, is the absolute worse. Let's call my full amount of energy I can expend without dying 100, and each unit of that causes a set amount of pain. If the power of the spell is measured in the same units (that is, a scale ranging from one to 100), the input to output ratio of the spell I'm using right now is around 10:3. Very costly for its inneficiency. But after years of training with it, there is a benefit; I have unprecedented levels of pain tolerance for a girl of noble birth. That doesn't mean I can take a lot of hits, mind you, but it takes a few injuries for me to start being fazed by the pain, and an abnormal number to start operating sub-optimally.

I use my free hand to feel around for a twig, and ignite it. The improvised torch provides enough light for now, I think. I carefully shove it into the soil next to the tree so it stands on its own, and climb up the tree, carrying my bag. I hadn't thought of how to douse the flame; thinking on it now, that was a rather horrendous oversight. I'm going to have to climb down, put it out, and climb up again with almost no sight.

It's not actually as difficult as it first sounded, actually. It took several tries, but I succeeded without really hurting myself, and found a nice spot in the tree to sleep. I fall asleep rather quickly.

So bright... Gwah! By the goddess, how long was I asleep?! I'd better get moving now, I want to reach Daein within two days, which should only be possible by pushing myself to a fast pace for around ten hours a day. I grab my bag and sling the strap over my shoulder, then tie my sword and its sheathe across my back. I climb down the tree quickly, and walk north along the road fast enough to be at a good pace and slow enough not to seem abnormal.

The day has passed without incident; I hunted a bit and ate my fill, trained a little with my sword, and walked just about enough to probably meet my ideal time to arrive in Daein and begin my search. It's almost dark out, and I know now not to wait until it's dark to find and climb a suitable tree for sleeping in. That said, I'll try to wake up early tomorrow so that it's alright for me to be sleeping by dusk. I'm going to walk as long as I can tomorrow, preferably twelve hours if at all possible. I won't train tomorrow at all, so that I can focus on walking and getting food. If I do that, it'll most likely be only one and a half days before I reach Daein's border. I hope there aren't bandits between here and there; I'm not really much of a fighter, as my strength is enough to use my sword but not with very notable power, and using one of my "spells" without allies around would be certain death for me.

On a brighter note, I've been feeling a bit more genuinely optimistic lately. I'm starting to think I may actually have a chance at finding my real family. Though I do hope Jill and Lord Shiharam are alright, since I recall Jill had joined the military and Lord Shiharam's combat prowess rivalled that of the Four Riders and therefore he'd certainly have been deployed. I take the scroll out of my cloak and stare at it; it's the one proof I have of the identity of my parents.

I am a Branded, the forbidden child of a Beorc and a Laguz. According to the scroll, I was conceived as one of a pair of fraternal twins. However, while my (technically twin) brother was born after a period a bit longer than the average Beorc pregnancy, I was born after a period a bit shorter than the average Laguz pregnancy. I'm not sure exactly how that worked or how my mother (who wrote the scroll) knows/knew; in fact, I'm not entirely certain I want know. In this case, better to not inquire and be at peace with it than know all the details that I may think afterwards I shouldn't have asked after.

It'll be a long, tiring day for me tomorrow- I'd better get to sleep now so I can be on the move as early as I possibly can.

~Two days later~

Ok, no bandits. And I should be just about at the Daein border now, too. That's good. But an armed border patrol of Begnion Occupation Army troops? That's not good if one uses any recognized meaning of the word. They're already fighting someone, which seems to indicate they'd be opposed to allowing me to cross. I assume they're probably trying to block the other group from entering Daein; or would it be exiting? I've heard of how the Occupation Army is rather cruel and violent; t'would by no means be overreaching the boundaries of reason to think they might be trying to kill these people for being from Daein, or sympathizing with the people of Daein. I think it'd be best to help them as much as I can... Oh, how about this?

I steel myself as I prepare to try something I've never tried before. I allow some quintesscence or whatever it is to spill out of my mark, as usual taking the form of blue flame. It surrounds my hand, and I run it along the flat edge of my blade, willing it to set the metal ablaze in the same manner it did my hand. It becomes a water-like energy for a moment, coating the blade, and then ignites. It certainly looks impressive; it'd better be as powerful as it looks, since I actually feel somewhat winded from doing that.

I examine the situation. One of the soldiers is poised to attack a boy whose back is turned; the boy probably isn't more than a year or two older than I am. Yes, that soldier is a suitable target. I charge at him and slash my sword across his back; the flame makes the sword cut right through his armour, causing him to cry out in pain. The boy who he was about to attack spins around and casts a real fire spell- Elfire, I think- at the soldier, finishing him off. I run over to the boy.

"Need a little help?" I ask, trying to sound confident. He seems a bit surprised- probably because I look a bit younger than I am.

"Not really, but it couldn't hurt." He replies. I smile.

"Then let's finish this."

_That's it for the first chapter. Please tell me what you think via reviews! But bear in mind that I stuff that's clearly meant to be incredibly unhelpful and discouraging ("flaming", I believe the term is), and likely won't understand anything with a lot of swearing, so please refrain from doing either of those things. Thanks for reading this!_


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